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Well, in fairness, it is difficult to have mind blowing sex when your biggest regret in life is the man you married……
Not to mention the one “do over” we would all ask for is to have never met the son of a bitch 🙂
I can and do enjoy sex with Greg because I no longer give a rat’s ass what his opinion of me, my body, or my “performance” is. I’m finally past defining myself in regard to him. Earlier in this game, EMDR helped with the flashbacks/intrusive thoughts during sex, so those haven’t been a problem for a while.
I do think separation was the best thing I did in all of this. He had to lose everything, including me. And I had to see that I could live without him.
We are not together, not legally separated or divorced and I think about it a lot. I wish I didn’t. I know it would not fix anything, and yet I still think about it.
I did have sex with my h after my first d-day. It’s partly mortifying to think about, but also once I understood the reasons for it (as KMF discussed above), I was able to stop beating myself up. As for me, of course we are divorcing, and it’s been well over 2 years since we’ve had sex…since sometime before the shitty second d-day. Now he seems like a repulsive, horrifying creature. I can’t ever say that I’m detached in the way where I wouldn’t care. I care/hate too much right now.
Sex with doc e? Blecch. I don’t know if I will ever be able to even think of sex with anyone without being grossed out by his perversions. Never say never, but I can’t even imagine it at this point (I’m 2 years post dday where I found out it was “more than porn” for the first time, and I kicked his ass out, so no sex since then).
I am just glad that we did not have much sex during our marriage. He wasn’t all that interested in me unless I was sound asleep, and I did not like to wake up with someone groping me, keeping me up for 3-4 hours until I was raw, and then waking me up the next night for the same. If I tried to get him to make it enjoyable for me, I was “critical” and it felt “unnatural” (doing things like kissing, for goodness’ sake). It was a freakin’ nightmare. I don’t care if I never have sex again.
The last time I had sex with him was the night before D-Day. I remember it was a really good, enjoyable night.
After D-Day, there was no way I could have sex with him and didn’t. As far as I am concerned, he has zero right to see me naked or use my body after everything he’s done. I always felt very strongly about that, even in the year that I didn’t know everything I know now, and when I thought there was hope for us and was conned by fake recovery. I couldn’t have sex with someone who was essentially a stranger, put my life at risk, didn’t truly love me in the way a normal person can, and didn’t respect me.
I have missed him, our good times together, and male physical contact, but it hasn’t bothered me to the extent that I’d put my physical and emotional health on the line for sex. The flashbacks, reliving the pain, knowing his mind is fantasizing about other women and that he’d just be using my body to masturbating into, truly aren’t worth it for me. It would be so degrading. I didn’t like when things mostly turned into detached fucking towards the last years of the relationship when his addiction had escalated, so I certainly have no interest in continuing that now with a known sex addict who has zero idea about healthy sexuality, intimacy, and love. Everyone is different. For me, I can only have sex with men who I believe care about me, are attracted to me, and that I trust are monogamous. The only sex I want is healthy intimate sex. I’m in no rush and can live fine without it.
I also didn’t think oxytocin bonding with him would be a good idea.
My SA was very triggering as well after D-day. Even looking at his hands and neck was a trigger. The closest affectionate contact we had was in the first year when one night we hugged and cried together. I never wanted to touch him, so that felt like a big deal to me. That hug was territorial too — against the strippers, and our therapist who had behind the scenes secretly been orchestrating him to leave me because I was deemed ‘the problem’ rather than him, his behavior and her ineffectual therapy. I remember saying to myself, “I am going to hug MY partner of 10 years, and all of you are going to stay the fuck out of it.”
I do agree with your point about the oxytocin bonding, Victoria. Sex makes a lot of women emotionally vulnerable and being vulnerable with one of these men is dangerous…. Most of us want intimate sex, though once in a while any kind of physical contact can hold appeal. It simply isn’t natural to be married and celibate but then what about being married to one of the these dudes is normal?
Like I’ve said before, infidelity was the line for me but really it’s about the fact that how does one have intimacy without trust? How does one trust one of these bastards ever again? They may get better or make some strides towards intimacy but can we be intimate with them? They’ve basically poisoned us with their intimacy issues. I want a partner I can be intimate with.
I do not want to have “sex”. I want to make love. SA’s inability to have intimacy has basically made me feel that our entire marital sex relationship was having sex, not making love. When he can learn intimacy, he can learn that making love to me is not the same as the sex that he could get just anywhere he wanted.
I am quite liberal, but I didn’t get into a marriage with the limited idea that sexual companionship meant sex workers, sex chats, anonymous encounters, porn, peep shows etc. If I had been told that’s what he wanted, I wouldn’t have married him. I was open to various sorts of assistance or enhancements, to be sure, but it was still about intimate human bonding.
Sexual liberation in my 20s was all about the beautiful sexual communication and beauty that could be shared between two people. It did not involve manipulation, payment, eroticized rage, dominance and all that. It was beautiful and awesome in the way a sunset inspires awe. As an artist, I suppose I could call it the highest form of aesthetic experience.
But that got ruined. I got “depressed” (meaning gaslighted into insanity), took SSRIs for “my disease” and essentially was drugged into oblivion with no sex drive at all. I would mention it to my doctors but nobody took it seriously. So, after Dday, I wasn’t on those drugs and felt, for the first time in years, my own innate arousal states, and I do enjoy me, myself and I. (it did confuse me and I had a talk with Dr. M about it.) I went on SSRIs again last year, and my sex drive vanished again. I am off of them and will never give up my sexuality again.
As for us as a couple, I am bringing up my feelings and concerns, cuz we are going to a tropical place next week. I may feel safe enough to try, I may not. But I assure you, all MY parts are working!
At first I had sex with him… Well this was prior to finding out everything… I think sex is normal at first.. I haven’t slept with my H for well over 2 months and have NO desire to. Infact after my talk with him tonight I would like to whack that wiener right off.. But I won’t …it’s so tiny I probably couldn’t find it anyways ….
My sexual relationship with my ex was very clinical and without intimacy since he was not actually with me (he was with a porn person). It had physical release elements that worked but I was essentially alone in it for years.
After dday I had no real desire for him. My feeings were about shared history, intellectual intimacy, and the dream of our retirement as hippies in our renovated barn, all of which I valued as worth staying for. But the sex was nothing worthwhile.
Now that I have a real lover, I am like a young women discovering what sexual intimacy is and how much fun making love can be. There are just so many dimensions to it I didn’t know or experience. Whatever happens between me and the man I’m seeing, I’m very very glad I had this opportunity to know myself as a sexual woman with an fully present, open and loving partner. Honestly, it removed one of the grief layers–that I would die without this wonderful experience between two people.
And never once, since dday has there a sexual longing for my ex. Never. There was just nothing to miss that an online ordered appliance couldn’t deliver more effectively and efficiently.
Let me skip to deciding to try again to heal the marriage 2 years after separation ensued after 8 years of fake recovery.
I felt pity for a sicko who said he wanted to heal. I felt warmth and love because I was so damn nice and committed to family. Then I could keep my normal for my children, etc. I wanted sameness and normal so very much. He said he did too.
Had sex a few times and he gave warmth, said sll the right words once again.
Then, soon, I felt no trust when I checked in with me. Told myself and him that I would not have sex again until I felt love and trust because reality of his betrayals really sunk in.
I was mortified that I had a marriage based on the outcomes of polys. What had my life become??????
About 3 years past. I would sleep with and cuddle, but that was it. Never felt “that way” for him again. Stuck to my guns. Told him I would know when I felt differently. He did not follow through with promises except poly’s. Started to,yell at me about my doubts of results. He was still woman watching fucking. That never stopped. He was pissed that I noticed and that he worked so,hard to stop and it caused him stress. I emotionally retreated more. Held my ground.
Result? He had a colossal nervous breakdown, lost his mind and destroyed our lives while blaming me…..and worse. Every pathological coping came out like flames. Except to the public, our friends and family he pretended nothing was happening. MY GOD. I got uterine fibroids and increasingly bleed until I hemorrhaged. Had to leave a class I was teaching to go to ER.
Had major complications from surgery. Used my remaining strength to keep SA RAT away forever. 11 weeks of healing hell. Took 25 friend and family to take turns to cook,shop,get,firewood,
buy pills, drive for me, etc., etc. not only could I not stand for more than a few minutes. I couldn’t sit up either. SA offered to help. I insisted he stay away, forever. Finances went into the toilet.Got good contract work after I healed. Worked at the peak of my career – traveled, taught, mentored, built community partnerships, etc.
Then hit the wall again. PTSD. No one could understand because I was a survivor. A leader. Well everyone was fine – patients, programs, etc., except for me – who was taking care of me?
No one could explain why I healed with so much pain after surgery. Doctors had NO explanation. No one had any context for what I was going through. Except me. I can tell the story.
Can anyone hear besides SOS? No. Sad.
His therapist was with me while we worked on the relationship. She was no where to be found after the breakdown. Why? She was HIS therapist. Well, needed lots of therapy for that point alone after I could walk again.
The end of Nov. will be 4 years post breakdown. I am lucky to be alive and have any sanity at all but, I am toast. I AM TOAST!
Now having plain vanilla, loving sex with sweet BF. He is so appreciative to have me as a sexual partner. That part of our life is sweet, simple and so very different for me. We focus on so many other things. Sex is an expression of our love. No more, no less.
“My sexual relationship with my ex was very clinical and without intimacy since he was not actually with me (he was with a porn person). It had physical release elements that worked but I was essentially alone in it for years.” Yes, this was me/us too. There is nothing about sex with him that I miss at all. Achieving physical release alone is MUCH less lonely than achieving it with an emotionally absent partner. And as Beenthere said, I don’t want to have sex, I want to make love. Since I’ve only had sex with one man, I guess I’m still a virgin when it comes to making love.
Thanks lisak. Can hardly believe that was my life. Feel like the poster child for the now barely known, WRONG WAY.
The good news is that I am in a safe haven in Yosemite, like Trish’s beach haven. Just spent the last month hiking to my heart’s content in gorgeous weather. I have been alone a lot.
Let’s see…last and final D-day straw was last March. So certainly no sex since then. And to be honest, I couldn’t really tell you when we had sex most recently before that day; I’m sure it happened, but I don’t have much recall of that time period (at least not a lot of detail. So funny how that works).
There is no way in hell that I would have sex with him, I can’t even tolerate his touch. I don’t like him, I don’t trust him, I have no desire to be close to him.
That wasn’t always the case, like a lot of us I reacted in hypersexual mode after the first d-day; I was scared and wanted to be close to him, and I had no idea what I was dealing with. I loved sex, I loved him, and so I thought it was a way to connect us emotionally and physically. If only that worked!
I suppose there would be a time that I might be totally detached from him emotionally (instead of this intense distaste and repulsion), but what would be the point of sex under those conditions? I’m just not wired for anonymous sex with no strings. I love the strings! So I think it would make me essentially like him, if I resorted to sex under those terms. So I have no idea where I’ll be on this a year from now; divorced, recovered, or in limbo (less likely that). But I don’t see us even kissing on the cheek at this point.thanks for the replies. All very honest and interesting to read. I understand where you are all coming from.
I don’t know when or if I will be able to have sex with my husband or not. He is still holding onto this addiction in some form or another. He says he hasn’t acted out with hookers, but he keeps masturbating, he seems to only be able to go about a week. Tonight I discover he has been using our DVD player to access you tube videos….like breast exams etc. No wonder he cant stop the masturbating. Feeling rather hopeless and annoyed.Shattered, not long after D-day, I suddenly wanted sex again after not wanting it with him for years. I thought I was an oogy perv, but turns out it’s a really common response, like trying to reclaim our territory or something. But not any more. That brief flame didn’t last long, and now I couldn’t care less. I would say just go with your gut, and do what you feel like, when you feel like it. xoxo
To be honest I couldn’t care less with HIM but I have to admit that more and more…I would be interested in someone else. I don’t act on it, cannot imagine myself having the nerve to do it, and do nothing to facilitate it. I feel old, used up and inadequate and feel that if someone else even offered i would just run away. BUT. Then I think…if those feelings even simmer away…even if you don’t do anything and are afraid to do anything…they prove you are not dead. Not yet? And while you are not dead there is life and hope and possibility…. Maybe I still live in a Cinderella world, but I doubt it. I just don’t really care about him and why would I?
It’s sad to hear you talk about yourself that way, Karen, but I understand it completely.
For me, it’s that self esteem thing that I didn’t really deal with at any point until now. I just kept fighting to survive, and self-esteem seemed like a luxury option that wasn’t critical to survival. Now I understand it impacts everything—my search for work, my relationship with friends, my relationship with Marc, my depression, my parenting confidence.This is about core damage to us. It’s what allows us to be more than consumers of life and beauty and opportunities. With self-esteem we participate in it, add to it. I have felt like a beggar, grateful for any scrap of anything that came my way.
Which leads back to the most basic life lesson my mother taught me—don’t expect anything from life. Gee, thanks mom. But this experience threw me back into that place, and self-esteem is a full time job right now and hard to have without money, without place, without security for the future. I often think about people in third world countries in dire need, who in other circumstances could be brilliant teachers, leaders, researchers, musicians, writers, engineers, etc. They have to find something else. We all have to find the key ingredients of self-esteem that are more than what our society declares.
I’m working on it (of course–that’s my M.O. for self-esteem).
I think it’s maybe found in my willingness to love and value my own life, to hang on to that and believe in it, in spite of setbacks, insults, failures. Sounds trite, but I think that’s it.i don’t think that sounds trite at all – at least I hope to God it doesn’t because that is exactly what I am trying to do. I am trying so hard to love and value my own life. It appears that’s all I have left. My children are grown with lives of their own, I am no longer a wife, a home maker, a lover. So I am left with trying to value what is left – which isn’t much and is rather sad. At least today it is.
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